Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Through the Wall - Room 8

*****WARNING*****This blog post contains graphic sexual content, violence and sexual violence. Reader discretion is advised.


A van squeals into the parking lot of the Olin Motel. A sliding door scrapes open and muffled male voices are in the middle of what sounds like a heated banter. The door scrapes and slams hard with a bang. Tires rev again and the van peels out of the lot. The quick cadence of a pair of cowboy boots trots up the metal stairs and down the hall towards room 8 (or 9). A set of keys jangles at the door and a low male voice mutters "Son of a bitch..."

Heather Ruby flinched when she heard the tires squeal. But hearing the feet coming up the steps she frantically looks around the room, to make sure everything is the way he likes it, before sitting primly on the foot of the bed and turning her head towards the door with a smile that would tell him how glad she was to see him back.

Kenneth Russell Hall slams the door open and saunters in barely looking at Heather. He drops an oversized duffle bag near the entrance which always contains the same things; a nondescript black turtleneck and cargo pants, a black balaclava, a switchblade and an assault rifle. Ken kicks the door shut behind him and walks towards the bathroom. He shakes shaggy but short dark brown hair, yanks off his black leather jacket and tosses it at a chair, revealing a black worn tank top and many upper body tattoos. He has a scar across the bottom of his lip but an attractive chiseled face and lean muscular build. As he steps into the bathroom he leaves the door open and unceremoniously undoes his belt and unzips. He begins to piss loudly like someone who hasn't had a chance in far too long. As it ebbs and ends he calls out "Carter fucked up the job. We have to go back." There's a sound of the toilet flushing and water running in the sink before Ken comes back out looking upset "He's going to get all our asses busted."

Through the wall the TV blares from the room next door with what sounds like a boxing match on. A vein in Ken's temple pulses and he walks up to the wall and bangs the side of his fist on it "Turn it down mother fucker!" After which he barks at Heather "Get me a Tylenol and a beer. I hate this shithole island."

Heather nods. "O -- okay." she stutters. She flinches as he pounds on the wall, but then he is barking at him and she stands quickly going to the armoire mini-fridge and one of the beer bottles within. Then she hurries into the bathroom for the tylenol. She beings it out and fumbles to open it. Ken is NOT in a good mood, sounds like. With her hands shaking, she spills the bottle. "Shit! I'm sorry!" she drops to her knees to collect the rolling pills.

Ken laughs cruelly and says casually "Stupid bitch." He stalks up to her as she scrambles with the pills with a grin that shows he enjoys the power he has over her. He reaches down as he steps now crotch to her face and grabs the back of her hair pulling her head back so she's looking up his body "That's can make it up to me...."

Heather squeaks when he pulls at her hair. "Ken! Your headache." as if that will make him let go of her. She also knows it could be worse. "My hair!" she protests, but she is half heartedly working on his jeans.

Ken wiggles his brows, giving her hair one last hard pull before letting go to just resting his hand on her head "It's a stress headache. You can help. Pass me 2 of those and the beer and then suck me. It's the least you can do when I'm paying for your room.....come on Heather.....make it all better..." His voice is soft at the end but still definitely issuing a demand.

Heather swallows hard. "Ok, OK ...." she agrees, knowing her voice is anxious but ... Ken never cared about voice tone. She sets some of the pills on the desk and lets him get his own beer. Undoing his pants, she takes his cock in one hand and moves her head close, sucking his dick into her mouth. As she begins sucking, she wonders again if she can ever get away ... and doubts it.

Ken takes the pills and keeps holding the beer and drinking as she starts, like he's at a show and she's the entertainment. Eventually he puts the beer down on a nearby table and grabs her head again, pushing his cock into her mouth as she sucks farther than could ever possibly be comfortable. He let out a moan as he deep throats her, bending his knees a bit.

Heather knows what is coming when he grabs her hair and gags at first, then chokes and fights the reflex. She grabs onto his hands, trying to pull her head back a bit lest she choke and throw up.

Ken's face turns from pleasure to fury as she fights his wishes. He shoves her head off him now "For fucks sakes Heather. ...fine...get on the bed and let me fuck you. You're no good with your mouth these days." He steps out of his pants and underwear, pulls off his tank top and socks and walks to the bedside table. The drawer scuttles open loudly as all the furniture is old. He pulls out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube and starts rolling on a condom within a minute and lubing it up, waiting for her to join him and be ready to go. Romance and foreplay were not going to be offered.

Heather winces and sighs. If she'd thrown up on him, he'd have beat her again. As he gets the condoms, for which she is eternally grateful he insists on using, she rolls onto the bed and lays on her back, spreading her arms and legs as if she is making a snow angel. Then she forces a smile and pulls up her knees, her legs open, hoping he doesn't catch that she is NOT in the mood ... then again she lost 'the mood' the first time he had raped her .. hours after they met. But Ken loved it ... and now, he wouldn't let her go.

Ken gets on top of her and without any communication, shoves into her, grunting as he starts to thrust hard. He starts talking to her as he goes "Tell me that you want it.......Ask for it harder......beg for more....." He says between grunts. He pins her wrists down and presses into them with enough force to bruise, just a little, not enough to cause alarm if anyone sees.

Heather half grunts and half cries out in pain as he so roughly enters her. She knows all of his requests before he vocalizes them and, lately it’s been hard to know someone was listening. A nice man next door to them. More than usual, she feels the shame of what Ken does to her. "Oh baby ,,,, give it to me .. please ... ha .. harder..." she begins to beg. The only light for her, is Ken never seems to know or care what is in her voice, so he probably can't hear the resentment, never mind the tears she hides. Especially now. Because the man next door. Tom ... if they could hear him, he could hear her.

 Ken's skin starts to sweat against Heather's. It might have been nice if he showered first. Course it might have been nice if she wanted any of this and he was considerate of her needs but he wasn't that type of guy and never would be. He slammed into her now as he started to get closer to getting off and kept talking between grunts and moans "That's right baby. I'm giving it to you just how you like it......" His eyes were filled with lust and rage as he met hers and said "Cum for me....."

Heather follows his motions a bit, but isn’t really into it. After his day and no shower his isn’t the best of smells and he took her dry as a desert, and ... the bloom is really off the relationship for her. But she knows better than to say anything to him. She only breathes harder, moaning as if this is the best sex she’s ever had. "God baby .. baby ... oh god ... yes ... I'm .. I'm gonna cum!" she announces, bucking a little more under him, more to encourage him than anything. Just get it over with, and a fake orgasm works every time.

Ken takes the bait of her false enthusiasm and his face screws up into almost pained expressions before it goes slack and he cries out with one last hard thrust and collapses on top of her sweaty, smelly and heavy.

Heather sighs when he collapses at her and rests her hands on his back, fake panting. Realizing he will probably expect to be complimented, she moans. "Oh baby that was great." staring over his shoulder at the ceiling.

Ken rolls off her and smiles for the first time, genuinely "I'm sorry I was so fucking cranky. Just needed you to fuck it out of me.....thanks...." He's always the nicest guy right after sex, even if the sex was in no way nice. He kisses her lightly and gets up and goes to the fridge for another beer "You want one?" He takes out two for himself and hesitates until she replies.

Heather smiles back. If only he could be like this all the time. Sweet and almost caring. But those five minutes didn't make up for the rest of the time and never for when his mood was REALLY foul. "No, baby, thanks?" she stretches in the way he likes, hoping to keep his good mood up. "You’re not going to be late, are you?" she asks, casually, knowing they had another run soon. Time alone for her. Maybe she would get a coffee or something. Maybe she'd run into the neighbor guy.

Ken shakes his head "No more tonight. Shift change on the guards. They're one short on the day shift at the warehouse we're raiding. Gives us an edge.....getting up real mother fuckin early tomorrow and I'll be gone for a few days." He sets the alarm clock for 5:30 am, downs several more beer in rapid succession and clicks on the TV as he cracks another and climbs back into bed "Fuck I'm wasted already..." he mutters after a half hour starting to slur and nod off. Within 45 minutes he's out cold.

Heather watches him drink, smiling like some kind of space cadet. As he drinks and watches television, she grabs a shower and washes her red hair. She watches him sleep and then, slipping into a long t-shirt, she slips out of the room and looks over the parking lot a moment. She notes a shaft of light coming from the window of Room 9 and .. like a moth to a flame .. is drawn to it.

Heather approaches the window and realizes that she can see inside. Tom is masturbating. She knows she shouldn't be looking, but she can't help but look at his body ... naked on the sheets. Dressed, she knew Tom was hot and, if things were different, she might have made a move ... but .. she shoves those thoughts away, watching him through the break in the curtains.

Heather stares at the show, blinking when he cums, but still staring at him and not moving from her space. She sees Tom turn and look at her and for a moment, she is frozen. Then she realizes and squeaks, and hurries back into her hotel room, careful not to wake Ken. Biting the corner of her lip, she turns on the television to watch mindless television, but she isn't thinking about what she's watching, but about what she's seen.

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